


Giving Up The Fight

by scifigeek14



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Anime, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Post-Canon, made up villians, s3e94
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigeek14/pseuds/scifigeek14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re waiting for me to attack?” Saito asked, mildly shocked, “That’s unlike you.”<br/>“And for once, you’re the one running your mouth. Attack me!”<br/>And he did.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: Based on English dubbed anime. First Saito/Sano fic. AU – Canon divergence. It is set at the end of episode 94 of the Anime in which Saito shows up to help with the Feng Shui plot arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

“And why are you flailing at me this time, Idiot?” Saito asked, unaffected by Sano’s fist flying towards his face. He grabbed Sano’s arm by the sleeve and twisted it up behind Sano’s back with a hard yank.

After the dust had cleared and the balance to Japan was restored, the first thing Sano had done was take it upon himself to welcome Saito back with a fight. It made sense to Sano since their entire relationship consisted of fighting – fighting with fists or with biting remarks, or even alongside each other in battle. And Sano was pissed, so he expressed it the only way he knew how.

“You asshole!” Sano spat, struggling to get his arm free, “How could you do that!?”

“You should be thanking me for helping out. I was happy in my afterlife, you know. It was quiet.”

“Quiet!?” Sano raged, “You pretended to be dead for the peace and quiet? You selfish bastard!”

“Sano,” Kenshin interrupted softly, “We should not be fighting today. We should be celebrating, that we should.” Kenshin’s peaceful voice defused the situation and Sano let out a deep breathe, relaxing his tense body. Saito took that as his cue to release him, but it didn’t keep Sano from pouting as he brushed himself off.

“Fine,” He capitulated, “But you and me still have a score to settle, so you better watch your back.”

“I will happily kick your pathetic ass anytime.”

“Sano!” Katsuhiro called, waving as he ran over to the group, “Did you see all those lights in the sky? Does this mean it’s over? We won?”

“Hey, Katsu!” Sano greeted, a wide grin breaking over his face. He patted Katsuhiro on the back as he reached them, “Yeah, it’s all over. We won.”

“Glad to hear it. Hello,” He said, turning to turn Saito, “My name is Katsuhiro Tsukioka, but most people call me Tsunan these days.”

“Yes, I know who you are,” Saito responded, “I did my research on you after your bombs took down the Rengoku with such ease. I needed to make sure you weren’t a threat. But I needn’t to have worried, like most of the Battōsai’s friends, you could never really be a threat.”

“What!?” Katsuiro started back and frowned, “Who are you, you – ”

“Katsu,” Sano interrupted, “Don’t waste your breath on Saito; he’s an asshole.”

“Saito? This is Hajime Saito? I thought you said he was dead?”

“What did I just tell you? He’s an asshole.”

“Well, it was a pleasure as always,” Saito deadpanned, “But I’ll be off.” He put out the cigarette he’d been smoking – through the whole conversation – on Sano’s shoulder.

“You aren’t coming to celebrate with us, Saito?” Kenshin inquired, ignoring Sano’s complaining and thrashing.

“No offense, Battōsai, but spending my evening with you and your trained pets isn’t high on my priority list in the aftermath of a nearly catastrophic event.”

And he walked off, as enigmatic as ever. Sano clenched his fist as he watched Saito disappear.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

It was a few weeks before Sano was able to track down Saito and throw a fist at his face. This time, without Kenshin and the weariness from coming off a battle, Sano found himself in nearly the same position as last time, only this time his face was pressed against the nearest building.

“Even an idiot like you should know better than to sneak up on someone so far above your level,” Saito murmured dangerously close to Sano’s ear. Sano growled and threw his head back, hoping to whack the smug smirk he knew was on Saito’s face right off.

“Ow!” Sano yelped from the pain of his head smashing into the wall. Saito had anticipated the movement and flipped Sano around, causing his head to connect with the side of the house rather than Saito’s nose. Saito still held one of Sano’s arms behind his back and wrapped his thin fingers around the wrist of the other to press it against the wall. This forced them close together in the tight side alley between the two buildings.

“Pathetic. Is this really the same man who took on Makoto Shishio? You’ve slipped.” Sano could feel the heat from Saito’s breath. It smelled like tobacco. 

“Shut up! I’m at the top of my game!”

“Then that is truly depressing. Perhaps I misunderstood your character, Sanosuke Sagara, because I got the impression that you planned to prove me wrong.”

“Fight me and I will. I promise to knock that smirk off your face.”

“Do your worst then. I’ve had a long day of dealing with diplomats and could find some enjoyment in pounding you into the dust.”

Saito released his arms and pulled back to give them both some space to ready themselves. Sano straightened himself out and cracked his knuckles. Saito took his sword and scabbard off his belt and placed it aside before raising his hands and stepping into a fighting stance.

“Come on then,” Sano taunted.

“You’re waiting for me to attack?” Saito asked, mildly shocked, “That’s unlike you.”

“And for once, you’re the one running your mouth. Attack me!”  And he did.

Saito’s fist found Sano’s jaw. Sano aimed a kick at Saito’s knee, only to get that knee in his stomach. Sano lifted his left hand but it met only air. Saito was just as quick as he’d been last time they fought, maybe even quicker. Last time they had fought Saito hadn’t used his full strength or speed, but he knew better than to underestimate Sano this time. His entire focus was on Sano’s face and body, intent on reading his movements. When he threw his right fist, Saito caught it and fractured one of Sano’s knuckles – still fragile from his injuries in Kyoto. When Sano feinted right and then went left, he found himself with a bloody nose and when Sano focused on landing a punch, Saito kicked him in the knee over and over until they buckled beneath him.

“Just give up,” Saito encouraged, “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I’m pissed at you!” Sano shouted between useless punches, “You let me and Kenshin think that you’re dead for months and then just show up acting like nothing happened!”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“We took on Shishio together! We fought side-by-side against evil and saved the god damn world! How could you not let us know you survived, you bastard? We _mourned_ you!”

 

\-- _Saito_ \--

 

Saito blinked, startled by the emotion in Sanosuke’s voice. Then, he twisted Sano’s arm again and forced his face down into the dirt.

“I win.” He informed Sano, kneeling down on his lower back.


	2. Two

Sanosuke was uncharacteristically quiet as he lay with his face in the dirt. He didn’t rise to the bait, just lay there. It was obvious that the fighter’s heart was no longer in the fight. This man, who never gave up on a fight, had given up. Something was seriously off.

“Get up, you pathetic idiot,” Saito ordered.

“Huh?” Was Sano’s eloquent response against the ground.

“I said, get up,” He repeated, lifting his knee off of Sano’s back. He grabbed Sano’s uninjured wrist and tugged him up and ducked the fist that was thrown at him.

“Did I win?” Sano mumbled as Saito wrapped Sano’s arm over his shoulders and his own around Sano’s waist.

“Idiot.” Saito responded rather than answering, dragging Sano down the street.

“Admit it. You’ve missed me,” Sano teased with a smirk. Once more Saito didn’t bother to answer. After a few minutes he spoke up again, much to Saito’s annoyance, “Where are you kidnapping me to?”

“I’m taking you to my place. You need your wounds treated and I don’t know where you bed down, it’s probably in an alley somewhere.”

“I’m not homeless, asshole.”

“One wouldn’t know that from the way you purport yourself, dress yourself, and hang around like a stray dog.”

“I thought you lived in Kyoto?”

“My wife lives in Kyoto. I live here.”

“Not a very happy relationship?” Sano asked, taking in this new information.

“A marriage of convenience. She is a kindly woman, but it was never love.” Saito explained calmly, long come to term with the fact that love wasn’t in the cards for a lone wolf such as himself.

“How could anyone put up with you anyway?”

“I have very high standards.”

“You’re an asshole who isn’t above kicking dirt in someone’s eyes to make them drop their defense.”

“You don’t practice defense.” Saito reminded him.

“I didn’t even know you had a wife.”

“I don’t anymore. I am dead, remember?”

“You didn’t tell your wife you are alive either? Damn.”

One of Sano’s knees was already supporting his weight and he started to limp alongside Saito. He didn’t bother to remove his arm though, still heavily leaning on Saito. Saito wondered if Sano was bleeding on his uniform. Sano’s white outfit was turning pink and red around the collar where his cracked lip bled. His finger on his right hand was bleeding too, staining the bandages. Sanosuke was quiet for a bit, focusing on walking without grunting.

“You should have told us you were alive,” Sano spoke again, softly, “Your wife, Kenshin, me and the others, your friends.”

“My wife is better off without me,” Saito informed him with a frown, “And I have no friends.”

“What are you talking about!?” Sano raised his voice to a near shout, startling Saito with the volume, “I just named two of them: Me and Kenshin. If you came around more you’d have some more in a heartbeat. The Missy likes anyone Kenshin likes and Yahiko already thinks you’re some kind of supernatural creature for kicking me and Kensin’s ass. And the fox lady is even meaner to me than you, so you are bound to get along.”  

“I don’t understand you,” Saito mused as he took this in, “You are stubborn and loud and I have no doubt you would like nothing more than to punch me in the jaw, yet you call me a friend. All I’ve ever done is kick your ass and you know I’d gladly do it again.”

“Fighting is my life. It’s how I make all my friends,” Sano explained with a cough, “First time I met Kenshin he kicked my ass. But we didn’t become the best friends we are today until he did it the second time.”

“This is the third time that I’ve taken you apart. Does that make us lovers?” Saito asked in a rare moment of levity for him. Sano chuckled.

“That depends? You taking me back to your place to have your way with me?”

“You wish.”

Saito was startled by the full bodied laughter that racked Sano’s wiry frame. It vibrated through Saito’s bones at all their points of contact and he felt his own body shiver in response. Sano kept up the hysterical laughter for the next few blocks until he was forced to cut it off with a pained gasp. He gripped his ribs with his free hand.

“We’re here,” Saito turned them and led Sano up to his simple small house. Sano held his own weight while Saito opened the door, “Take off your shoes and socks at the door,” He ordered, as he did so himself. He watched as Sano looked around his front room and shut the door behind them. He shook his head at the incongruous sight of Sanosuke Sagara standing in his home and went to go wash and change.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

Saito’s house was smaller than Sano had expected. It looked like it couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. The main room he was in seemed to multitask as a visitor’s front room and Saito’s bedroom, Sano discovered, as he peaked around a screen and found a rumpled looking futon and a small trunk. Sano shuffled over to the center of the room and sat down on the wooden floor before his knee gave out on him. Soon after Saito returned from what appeared to be the kitchen. He had changed into a pair of white hakama and a loosely tied jittoku in dark gray which bared his collarbone and most of his chest. Sano noticed a long scar that went almost all the way across the top of his chest and wondered how he’d gotten it. His dark hair was wet and his spidery bangs looked like they had been pushed back but were now starting to fall back in place in front of his eyes.

“Nice place,” Sano said, just to have something to say, “Smaller than I’d expect but I guess you aren’t a luxury kind of guy.”

“Do you ever stop talking? Shut up and take off your bloodied clothing so I can treat your wounds.” It was then that Sano noticed Saito had brought in a bowl of fresh water, a couple of scraps of cloth, and some fresh bandages. Sano was shocked at this development. He hadn’t expected to receive treatment for his wounds considering he’d been the one to pick the fight. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sano stripped his pants and happi quickly, leaving him in his wrappings and loin cloth. Saito set the bowl down and took the dirty clothes from him and tossed them out onto the porch. Sano hoped no one would steal them, but he supposed that this wasn’t the ruffian row and the neighbors were aware that a member of the police lived here so they were probably safe.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your gloves,” Sano commented as Saito sat in front of him and dipped a cloth in the bowl to let it soak.

“These too,” Saito reached out and ripped through a layer of the wrappings around Sano’s waist. Sano helped by unwrapping his ankles. He was still freeing his right foot when the cold, wet cloth rubbed over his shoulder and down his chest.

Saito’s firm strokes left no room for doubt in Sano’s mind that Saito was in charge here, so Sano just sat back and let him. Saito washed the sweat and blood from his chest and back first, and then his legs. His long fingers probed over bruises, checking for swelling and broken bones. He took his time with Sano’s ankles, rolling them and pressing against the tendons even though Sano knew that Saito knew he had never hit him there.

“I could have done that.”

“Silence. Give me your hand and wipe your face off.” Saito threw a clean rag to Sano. He took it and rubbed it over his face, wiping the blood off his stinging lip. Saito carefully unwrapped his fragile right hand. Sano marveled at the care and the focus. Everything Saito did was done with precision. The same hands that could snap bone were gentle now as they washed and rewrapped his hand. “You really mangled this hand with your continued use of the Futae no Kiwami, idoit. Can you even use it anymore?”

“Megumi says that if I put that much stress on my right hand that the bones will shatter again. I’m working on my left hand. I’m thinking that if I can at least off set the right by distributing the shockwave across both hands it will keep my hand from turning into dust.”

“That’s fairly smart, for you.”

“I have my moments.”

 

\-- _Saito_ \--

 

Saito couldn’t help but smile at Sanosuke’s self-deprecating humor and, despite quickly removing it from his face and opting to squint his eyes and frown, he knew that Sano had caught it. Thankfully he let the moment pass and they lapsed into silence. Distributing the force of the shockwave would work in theory and it was actually a lot smarter than Saito would have once given him credit for. That was before he’d seen the man take out the Rengoku and hold his own against Shishio, his ability to master the Futae no Kiwami as quickly as he had done, how he had then adapted and continues to adapt the technique. Saito actually had some serious respect for his determination. Saito would never let him know that.

“I looked for you, you know?” Sano spoke in a low murmur, “Went back to Shishio’s freaky fire palace and looked all over the damn place.”

Saito’s mind whirled over this revelation. He’d gone and looked for him. But why? Saito had never shown him kindness. Not before tonight. He wasn’t used to having people who cared about him to be this upset over his wellbeing. Who was this this man? He looked simple but he was a mystery to Saito. He laughed and smiled when he ought to be crying, and he threw punches no matter the emotion he was feeling. He was visceral and dirty in all the places Saito was reserved and clean.

Saito looked at his bare hands, touching Sano’s wrist still, and for once he didn’t see blood and the filth of the war.

“Thank you, for this.”

“That’s what friends do. Is it not?” Saito asked with a smirk. Sano laughed, his head thrown back, and let it fall into a small smile.

“Don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you. I’ve never gone easy on Kenshin.”

“I’m sure he goes easy on you. Get some rest, idiot, before you pass out.”

“I’ve had worse than this and walked away smiling. You _know_ I have.”

“The difference is that you were already tired when you started fighting me.”

“Huh? Hey! How’d you know that?”

Saito found himself grinning again as he pushed Sano down gently to the floor by his shoulder. The same shoulder he had once injured.

“Rest, moron.”


	3. Three

Sano woke up completely disoriented. He wasn’t home. He had been sleeping on a hard wood floor but with the kakebuton from a futon thrown over him. Sano was actually touched at the gesture. He smelled food and stood to follow his nose. Wrapping the covers around his waist, he stumbled into the other room. Saito was cooking. Sano could smell the miso steaming over the fire pit. Saito had stripped down to his hakama to get a relief from the heat and Sano found his eyes roving over the shifting muscles under callus and scar covered skin.

“I am not surprised that it is the smell of food that would wake you up,” Saito spoke without turning around.

“Shut up. I better get some of that. I am your house guest, after all,” Sano snarked back. Satio didn’t answer and Sano watched the knife moving through onions and carrots with deadly accuracy, “Where are my clothes?”

“Hanging outside to dry.”

“You washed my clothes?”

Sano ventured outside and found his dōgi pants and happi flung over a strung up wire, looking much whiter than he’d seen them in a while.  He tugged them down and inside, changing while Saito finished up the food and brought it into the main room.

“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing all white with the amount you bleed,” Saito commented as they began to eat. Sano swallowed an umeboshi whole and slightly painfully in order to respond.

“Ever figure that maybe I’m just not afraid to show that I bleed, that I’m an actual human and not some machine soldier built for killing. It gives me a special kind of satisfaction for my opponent to know that I’m turning red and can still kick their ass.” 

“Seems counter-productive to me.”

“That’s cause you do the opposite. You try to impress your opponent by never bleeding or even blinking. It works for you fine, on everyone but me and Kenshin, that is.” He grinned.

“You prefer me bleeding?” His eyes narrowed at Sano but Sano didn’t back down.

“I prefer you real, human. Like this, right now. Gloves off.” Satio’s eyes flickered down to his bare hands and Sano watched as his entire body stiffened and his face went blank.

“I must get to work. You can show yourself out, I’m sure.”

He stood and went behind a screen into a back room about which Sano had no idea. Sano glanced at the closed door wondering what Saito would do if he just refused to leave and decided he didn’t want to risk it. He grabbed his shoes and walked out the front door, whistling.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

“Hello there, Saito,” Kenshin greeted calmly as he, Sano, and the rest of the gang walked through the crowded streets a week later on their way to the Akabeko. Sano, and the others, did a double-take and looked around wildly in confusion, searching the crowds. Right before Sano’s eyes the man in uniform emerged from the throng of people, smoking and looking as cool as ice. Sano found himself nervous for some stupid reason he couldn’t place his finger on, but he shook it off quickly.

“Saito,” He hailed him and Saito’s cool glaze traveled to Sano.

“Idiot,” Was his response, but it sounded unusually fond and caused Sano to grin.

“You big jerk!” Kauro shouted, disrupting the mood and walking over to slap Saito across the face. Sano thought that had never seen Saito’s narrow eyes so wide.

“Yeah! You tell him, Kaoru!” Yahiko cheered in support.

“Now, now, Miss Kaoru, Yahiko! Let’s not be so violent.” Kenshin pleaded, trying to hold them both back.

“Why are your friends always attempting to injure me, Himura?” Saito complained with equal parts distain and amusement coloring his voice.

“That is just how they show affection, Saito. That it is.”

“And what do you mean by that!?” Kauro and Kenshin exclaimed, turning on Kenshin and attempting to shake the answers out of him.

“Oro?” Sano started laughing and walked away from the fray and closer to Saito.

“They’re just upset about the whole not letting us know you weren’t actually dead thing,” He explained. Saito looked like he was about to respond when Kauro and Yahiko turned on each other and Kenshin escaped.

“Saito!” He blurted, “We were all going out for a meal at the Akabeko. You are welcome to come with us.” Saito looked unsure. In fact, Sano would have called it nervous. He reached out and patted Saito firmly on his shoulder.

“Come on. You owe us your grand tale of how you escaped.”

 

\-- _Saito_ \--

 

Saito chose for the most part to keep out of the conversation while everyone enjoyed some beef stew. He found himself enjoying simply observing the group. Yahiko and Sanosuke seemed to make it their mission to out eat everyone and insult the woman, Kaoru, at the same time. Saito could barely even keep up with how fast the chopsticks were flying and wondered why this speed didn’t transfer to their fighting. He was also was glad that Sanosuke seemed to show restraint when they had shared breakfast earlier in the month. Kenshin spent the meal watching almost as silently, only speaking up when someone asked him to come to their defense in an argument. When this happened he usually attempted to get out of the situation without actually stating an opinion or taking a side. How very diplomatic of him, Saito thought sarcastically. The former Battōsai was weak when it came to upsetting anyone’s feelings.

Miss Tae was very kind and the young girl Tsubame only ever managed to stutter out a few words and a blush. This, meanwhile, usually set Yahiko on his own stuttering streak. When this happened Sano elbowed Yahiko teasingly and sent a knowing wink at Kenshin. Kenshin and Kaoru would then share a secret smile. And, despite himself, Saito found himself smirking too.

“It is nice to be in the company of good friends, isn’t it Saito?” Kenshin asked, interrupting the chaos with his quiet, unassuming voice and causing all eyes to look directly at Saito: Kaoru smiling, Yahiko looking suspicious. Saito froze.

“Er. Yes?” He responded delicately.

Sano started laughing. Saito had grown familiar with that slightly too loud laugh. It made Saito’s stomach flip over the beef stew that was still settling. Sano threw an arm over Saito’s shoulders and he tensed up with a jerk, unused to the casual friendly touch. A part of him wanted to break Sano’s arm and tell him to stay away. The other part wanted to turn, wrap both arms around Sano’s waist, and never leave his strong and warm hold. And that thought itself was terrifying. Saito wasn’t meant to let someone in like this. The lone wolf, he reminded himself, firmly. That way he didn’t end up like the Battōsai having lost someone he cared about – he tangentially wondered if Himura had told that part of his life to his beloved Kaoru. Loved ones were the weak spots that enemies went for first. He’d said as much to Sano before leaving for Kyoto. But this was a time of peace and if the Battōsai had found a family, perhaps there was a place for him to build one of his own. But would it include his former rival, a loud mouthed street thug, and the rest of this odd collection of people?

“You’re even eating with your gloves on,” Sano commented with a chuckle once the others had gone back to eating and the conversation moved on. His arm hadn’t left Saito’s shoulders.

“Part of the uniform,” Saito deflected.

“It’s more than that. You’ll tell me eventually.” Sano squeezed Saito tighter before freeing him and returning to his food. Saito wondered who was paying for all this.

 


	4. Four

“Oh yeah!”  Sano exclaimed as the top half of the tree slid away and fell to the forest floor with a loud crash. He had really missed his Zanbato. It felt good to have the heavy sword back in his hands, newly reforged. He had needed to call in a lot of favors for that bit of magic.

“What did those particular trees do to offend you? Insult your honor or call you a rooster?” The voice came from behind him.

“Saito!” Sano yelped, spooked. He hadn’t sensed Saito creeping up on him at all. He plastered on a grin and whirled towards the voice, swinging the sword with his movement. Saito was forced to step back to avoid the tip slashing him. Sano knew that the man wasn’t ruffled by this though and pressed on as though nothing had happened, “What are you doing way out here?”

“I heard a rumor that some idiot was defiling the forest.” He leaned against a nearby tree and crossed his arms in front of him.

“Don’t worry. I’m about to wrap it back up and head home,” Sano explained, “I just got it fixed up and I was feeling sentimental cause it was a part of my image for so long, along with this symbol on my back.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his back. “But that’s over. Zanza the fighter for hire didn’t have a sense of humor. Best to leave the past in the past.” He grinned, remembering how big a chip he’d dragged around on his shoulder for so long.

“A small mercy that you are no longer running around making an ass of yourself. I assume I can attribute this to the intervention of the Battōsai and his new high ideals.”

“Told you the first time we met he kicked my ass,” He reminded Saito with a grin.

“So why is it that you never seem to listen to me?”

“I do listen to you, Saito. I just prefer to prove Kenshin right and you I try to prove wrong. Hey!! You wanna fight? I have a sword of my own now.”

“I suppose we could. If you want your sword broken again.” Saito baited him with a smirk.

“Ha! Bring it on!”

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

When, after less than five swings of his Zanbato, Sano hit the ground with a very heavy thud he realized that it had been incredibly stupid of him to go up against a man that favored a fast stabbing technique with a slow slashing weapon. The strength of the Zanbato was in keeping the opponent far away and unable to attack, but Saito had simply stolen a trick from Kenshin’s book and jumped up on the end. Sano had never expected to see a Gatotsu aimed at him from the end of his own weapon. He had barely had enough time to drop the weapon as Saito ran down it towards him. The attack was weakened by that, and by the sheer fact that Sano knew Saito was holding back.

“Okay, you win this one.”

“Idiot,” Saito groused, wiping his blade and putting it away. He walked over and tugged Sano up, slinging his arm over his shoulder.

“Why am I always carrying your sorry ass back to my home?” He asked and started walking.

“Is my Zanbato alright?” Sano asked, trying to lift his head to look for it. Saito had grabbed the massive sword by the handle and was dragging it behind them.

“It’s fine. You aren’t. You’re bleeding all over me.”

“Should have thought about that before you gave me the cuts,” Sano responded with a smirk.

They were silent the rest of the way there. Sano focused on regaining his breath and letting his body heal, when he wasn’t thinking about how warm Saito’s arm was around his waist. When they reach Saito’s home the Zanbato got dropped on the porch and Sano got dropped on the floor.

“Ow,” Sano complained, rubbing his sore ass as Saito disappeared into the kitchen. He returned looking damp around the ears, the same as last time. This time he hadn’t bothered with a top, choosing to go bare chested. Sano tried not to stare, instead focusing on unwrapping his ankles.

Saito sat down in front of him with the bowl of water and waited until Sano finished with his ankle wrappings and stripped off his happi. Sano folded it and set it off to the side. Saito reached out and ripped open Sano's waist wrapping and started washing the wound on his side. Once it was clean he rewrapped his waist with a fresh bandage and moved on to wash his arms and shoulders. Sano closed his eyes and sighed at the relief it brought. Saito’s hands were always sure and firm and the water was cool. It made Sano want to sleep. When Saito’s hands slid down his back, following the bumps of his spine, he couldn’t help but let his head fall forward onto Saito’s shoulder with a groan. He could feel Saito stiffen at the touch.

“Let me see that hand,” He requested and Sano lifted his head, backing up to let Saito examine his hand.  Saito unwrapped it carefully and felt his way over the bones there.

“It feels fine,” Sano assured him.

“Yes, I attempted to avoid it as much as possible. And with the use of your sword you were spared the jarring impact of using it to throw a punch,” Saito paused to look up with a smirk, “Not that you could hit me if you tried.”

Sano started laughing. Over the last month he’d started to become attuned to Saito’s dry sense of humor. Saito slapped him on an uninjured part of his arm to try too nonverbally tell him to stop moving so much so he could rewrap his hand. Sano took a breath and forced himself to stop shaking and let Saito finish.

“Thanks, Saito,” He said once his hand was rewrapped and Saito stood to return the bowl to the kitchen, “I should head back before I miss my chance to grab some food from Kenshin and Kaoru.”

“Stay,” Saito said as he paused at the doorway, “If you like.”

“Alright, I will,” Sano stood and slung his happi back on, meandering over towards Saito. He had pulled out some fresh vegetables, a knife, and a bowl, “Can I help?”

“Go and get some water from the well. I’ll need it to cook and I plan to use the last of this bowl to wash my hands.”

Sano went out the door and, after pausing to right his Zanbato which had been laying on its side, went around the back of the house to a well that Saito shared with the surrounding houses. He drew up a bucket and brought it back inside. Saito was still standing in front of the remnants of the previous bowl of water, washing his hands. He was still washing them. Sano stood and watched as he rubbed his hands together under the water in the same pattern: wash the top of the left with the right, wash the top of the right with the left, slide palms together, repeat. Saito was staring at his hands but Sano got the impression that he wasn’t really seeing what he was doing.

Sano cleared his throat loudly and purposefully knocked the bucket into the wall. Saito’s head jerked towards the sound and his right hand flew to the knife that lay on the table top, entire body a coiled spring. After a breath, he relaxed and pushed the used bowl away. Sano walked forward and took it, placing the bucket on the ground. He waited until Saito emptied the fresh water into a bigger bowl and set it over the fire to boil and then took the old water outside to dump and left the empty bucket by the well. When he got back Saito was chopping the vegetables.

“What now?”

“Are you capable of slicing carrots?”

“Am I capable? Do you have to be condescending about everything? Gimme that!” Sano complained, grabbing the knife and carrot.

He focused on slicing the carrot as thin and even as possible, but Sano was always the kind of person who favored big and forceful so it took some effort. By the time he finished with his one, Saito had finished off the rest. But Saito didn’t comment, just swiped them into the cooking stew and handed Sano a spoon with the implied instruction to stir.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

When the food was finished, they once again they ate in companionable silence. Sano wasn’t used to it. He’d been sounded by noise all his life: the noise of his boisterous family, of the Sekihōtai telling stories over a campfire, the arguments of the ruffian row, the din of the Akabeko, and, most recently, the friendly banter of his friends. Sano thought it would be awkward to sit in silence but he found that he enjoyed the quiet. He liked watching Saito eat his rice, how he never dropped a single piece. He liked listening to see if he could hear the near silent way Saito slurped his soup. He thought it was funny that he never picked up more than one vegetable at the same time and waited until he was completely done with one before he put another in his mouth. It was the exact opposite of how Sano (and Yahiko for that matter) ate and he found it soothing.

“You’re a pretty good cook,” Sano announced, rubbing his tummy and breaking the silence after Saito had cleared the plates away, “Better than Missy that’s for sure.”

“I told you, I have high standards. Something that I doubt you understand.”

“Hey! Why are you always insulting me, huh?” Sano complained, half-heartedly.

“It’s a part of my charm.” Sano blushed at the thought that bubbled to the surface of his mind, that Saito _was_ charming. Saito just stared at him, as if waiting for a rebuttal that wasn’t coming. Sano coughed and scratched the back of his head awkwardly under Saito’s scrutiny. “Have any sake?”

“So you can drink my entire supply and embarrass yourself?”

“Hey! I can hold my liquor. Just ask Kenshin about that time we went head to head and I won.” Sano chose to leave out the fact that later that night Kenshin had kicked his ass and was clearly faking his level of drunkenness.

“He most likely allowed you to win to soothe your pride,” Saito voiced the thoughts that Sano didn’t.

“I take that as a challenge!” Sano proclaimed, slamming his fist against the floor for emphasis.

“Very well,” Saito agreed, “Prepare to lose that challenge swiftly and mercilessly.”


	5. Five

Saito pondered how he’d gotten himself into his current situation. Saito made it a point to have very few regrets in his life, but he, in retrospect, probably shouldn’t have agreed to a sake drinking competition with Sanosuke Sagara. It was his foolish agreement to partake that caused him to find himself as out of sorts as he ended up in this moment. Saito was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and a fuzzy sensation in his toes, but the real surprise was that he had a lap full of Sanosuke. Sano had planted himself between Saito’s knees and was using his chest as a back rest. Saito was still getting used to the tickling feel of Sano’s hair under his chin when Sano reached behind him and grabbed a hold of Saito’s wrists.

“What are you —?” Saito stumbled over his question as Sano yanked Saito’s hands around in front of him and began inspecting them. Saito watched over his shoulder, studying his hands as closely as Sano was. He wasn’t sure why he was letting Sano do this. He wasn’t used to being studied so closely. There was a large scar that was sliced across both his palms from catching a blade back during the war. But it wasn’t the scars that he used the gloves to cover, it was the blood. The memories of the hundreds slaughtered in the war at his hands. The same hands that Sano now held so carefully and confidently in his own.

Saito felt like he had a fever and wondered if it was due to the alcohol or something else. He remembered the strange feeling he’d had the other night when Sano had wrapped his arm around him. Was this warm feeling friendship or something more? 

“Why do you hide these?” Sano asked, surprisingly quietly.

“You are smarter than you appear, idiot.” Saito gave him credit.

“I like to keep people on their toes,” He teased, but wouldn’t be deterred, “Answer the question.”

“Once you’ve had the blood of a child soaked into the skin of your palms it’s hard to look at them the same,” He admitted.

“That must be hard.” He’d never heard Sano so serious. Saito untangled one of his hands to brush his fingers up and into Sano’s hair. He tugged and Sano grunted.

“Don’t sound so doom and gloom, Sanosuke Sagara. I’m not your precious Battōsai with a promise never to kill. I’m not afraid to shed blood again. You shouldn’t forget who I am just because you call me friend.”

“I know,” Sano paused before speaking again, “I never forget with Kenshin, either. Don’t tell him, but sometimes I have this nightmare were its Kenshin who was hired to kill off the Sekihōtai back then.”

“If he had, you wouldn’t be alive now.”

“I know.” Saito sighed and freed his other hand. He wrapped his arm around Sano’s waist, scarred palms pressed against double bruised skin.

Sano stretched out with a growl, leaning back with his arms stretched above his head. Then with a deep sigh he relaxed and let his head fall back onto Saito’s shoulder, putting his long neck on display as he nuzzled up under Saito’s chin. One of Sano’s hands fell to the floor, knuckles knocking against the wood. The other traveled up Saito’s arm to rest at his bicep. Saito shuddered at the touch. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt safe enough to let his guard down in such a manner. Saito let his head rest against Sano’s and his eyes fall closed.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

The first time Sano woke up it was still dark out. He blinked into the dark trying to figure out where he was. His head felt fuzzy and the floor was hard, but despite sleeping on the floor he felt warm. In fact, he was almost too hot. He wasn’t sure if it was from his wounds giving him a fever, or the alcohol, or whatever the warm entity was that was pressed up along his back and wrapped around his waist.

“Go back to sleep, Sano,” Saito murmured in Sano’s ear softly and at the sound Sano let his body relax into Saito’s arms and closed his eyes. Saito nestled his face against the nape of Sano’s neck and pressed a dry kiss against the sweaty skin there, “Sleep, you drunken fool.”

He woke the second time to the smell of cigarette smoke. It was light this time, Sano could tell because the door was open and the sunlight streamed in to land on his face. He stood up carefully – last night’s drinking had helped to soothe his injuries but it had left him with a headache – and walked over and out onto the front stoop. Saito was smoking. He was still wearing his hakama pants but had thrown his uniform jacket loosely over his shoulders and was squinting his narrow eyes into the early morning sunlight. Sano let the hazy memories from the previous night wash over him and found himself grinning through a blush.

He wondered what Saito would do if Sano walked over and pressed a kiss to the patch of skin that was just showing over the top of Saito’s collar. He decided that Saito might give him a black eye and took a few more seconds to ponder over whether or not it might still be worth it.

“Are you just going to stand there like a moron?” Saito asked, glancing over at Sano with a smirk. Sano rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish at being caught out.

“Mornin’ old man,” He greeted with a yawn and a stretch, walking over.

“Don’t make me kick your ass again.”

“Bring it on anytime.”

Saito chose to ignore the taunt, lifting his cigarette to his lips and taking a puff. Sano reached out and stole it from his fingertips; Saito blinked in surprise. Sano loved getting that reaction out of Saito. He remembered the first time he managed to earn one. It was the second time they’d fought and Sano had purposefully taken a gatotsu style fist to the face just to hairline fracture Saito’s wrist. Sano reveled in it, the way Saito’s squinty eyes focused in on him, as he stole a puff off the cigarette. He released the smoky breath slowly, letting his eyes close. He hadn’t smoked since he’d come to Tokyo and been able to get full meals. Sano wondered if Saito tasted like tobacco.

“Sanosuke,” Saito’s voice rolled over the syllables in his name, his hand gripping Sano’s wrist like a vise, “I am very protective of what is mine and I do not share.” Sano met his steady gaze. “Do you understand what I’m saying, idiot?”

And Sano did understand. He pressed his captured wrist closer to Saito until the cigarette that was perched between his fingers was a mere hair’s breadth away from Saito’s thin lips. Saito leaned forward and bit down, taking it from Sano’s fingers with his mouth and taking a puff hands-free. Sano watched, fascinated. Saito’s grip never left Sano’s wrist. He held him there until he finished the cigarette, then he dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his bare foot.

“Woah! Hey!” Sano yelped as he found himself thrust against the wall with Saito’s lean and wiry body pressed against his in a long hard line. Saito’s hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of Sano’s hair and yanked, tugging Sano’s head back to expose his neck. Sano shuddered as Saito licked a long stripe up his neck and bit down hard on the patch of skin under his jaw. “Oh! Shit!”

“Mine.”


	6. Six

“You haven’t been around as much lately, Sanosuke,” Kaoru noted while they sat and watched Kenshin do the laundry, “I’ve noticed because you haven’t been eating all my food.”

“Very funny, Missy,” Sano mumbled.

“Maybe Sanosuke’s finally found a job,” Yahiko teased, “though I doubt it. He is far too lazy for that.”

“More likely he’s found someone else to free load meals off of.” Kaoru accused.

“Would you two stop picking on me!” Sano growled.

“Who is it, Sanosuke?” Kaoru continued her train of thought, ignoring him, “it’s not poor Katsu is it?”

“Aw, don’t worry, Missy, you’re still my favorite person to bother.”

“Hey! Sano! Is that a bite mark?” Yahiko interrupted loudly, pointing at Sano’s neck. Sano blushed bright red and lifted his hand to cover the mark.

“Ah, yeah. You know how it is. Some people fight dirty.” He bluffed.

“You really need to stop picking fights, Sanosuke.” Kaoru scolded, complete with a finger waggle.

“Pft. Whatever. Hey! If you miss me that much you should throw a party in _my_ honor.”

“You just want free sake!” Kaoru accused, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“I think a celebration sounds like just the thing, that I do,” Kenshin spoke up, defusing the ticking-time-bomb that was Kaoru, “We should invite Miss Megumi and Doctor Gensai, as well.” Kenshin finished hanging the laundry to dry and walked over. He put a finger to his chin in thought, “Perhaps Saito would like to come. What do _you_ think, Sano?” Sano thought that sounded an awful lot like a leading question and wondered if Kenshin knew the truth behind the bite mark.

“Eh, sure. If he has nothing better to do.” Sano said with a shrug.

“I think that’s a great idea, Kenshin!” Kaoru exclaimed, suddenly excited about the idea of a party, “I want him to feel comfortable coming around here to visit now that we are all friends!”

“Sano, perhaps you could pass on the invitation to him on our behalf while I go out for tofu and fresh vegetables.” Kenshin offered. Sano decided that Kenshin knew something was up.

“Wha? Why me?” He asked.

“Unless that is a problem, of course.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“Alright then! It’s a plan,” Kaoru giggled, “Kenshin will shop and cook, Sano will invite Saito, I’ll go invite Megumi and Dr. Gensai, and Yahiko you can clean the dojo.”

“What!? Why me?” Yahiko groaned and the group all laughed.

 

\-- _Sano_ \--

 

Sano wasn’t sure how he felt about walking up to the police station of his own free will, especially since the Police Chief himself came to meet him at the door.

“Mister Sagara!” He addressed him in the shrill and nervous way that he always talked, “Is everything alright? Are you here on the behalf of the Battōsai? Is there a threat!?”

“Calm down, Chief. It’s a casual visit,” Sano reassured him, lifting his hands in a placatory gesture, “Is Saito around?”

“Saito Hajime? He died in Kyoto while fighting Shishio Makoto!” The police chief looked like he was sweating through the collar of his uniform.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! The guy’s been walking all over town for over a month. I think the secret is officially out.”

“Fine,” The chief capitulated with an over the top sigh, “You’d better come in and wait. I’ll go inform him of your presence.”

Sano stepped inside warily. He’d never been here in a capacity that wasn’t against his will. It was just as depressing, he decided. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another policeman who he didn’t know popped up next to him.

“He’s ready to see you,” The man informed him, “Follow me.”

Sano just nodded and slumped along after the uptight man. He was lead through multiple rooms and hallways in the large place till they reached what looked like the darkest and most isolated corner of the place. Sano thought distantly that he probably shouldn’t be surprised that this was where Saito’s office was. The policeman disappeared as Sano knocked on the door in front of him.

“Enter,” Saito’s voice commanded. Sano fixed his hair and walked in. Saito was sitting behind a large desk that was littered with papers, smoking a cigarette. He looked dark and mysterious and attractive in a way that caused Sano’s throat to dry up a bit. “Are you going to stand over there like an idiot?”

“Nice to see you too, asshole.”

Sano watched patiently as Saito got up and came around from behind his desk, not stopping till he reached Sano. Saito lifted his arms and placed them against the wall on either side of Sano’s head. Sano reached up and plucked the cigarette from Saito’s lips. Saito smirked and weaved his fingers into Sano’s hair and tugged. Sano was starting to think that Saito had an obsession with hair tugging but he ignored it in favor of focusing on the lips that pressed down hard against his own. Sano’s whole body trembled against the intensity of the kiss. He tried to remember the last time he’d felt like this. It hadn’t even been this bad with Sayo and Sano had been pretty sure that he’d loved her. Saito’s strength had always done funny things to him. Sano groaned as Saito bit down on his lip.

“Did you come here just to distract me, kid?” Saito asked after he broke away. Sano chuckled.

“I’ve been sent as an official messenger of the Kamiya dojo to invite you to a party tonight.” This resulted in an eye squint from Saito.

“A party?” Sano could hear the distaste dripping from his voice.

“Face it, you’ve got friends now. You are going to have to actually be social. You have to play nice.”

“I’m going to whip your ass for this.” He threatened with a growl.

“Can’t wait. I’ll hold you to that promise, old man,” Sano straightened Saito’s collar, “Show up when the sun comes down. Kenshin’s cooking.”

“Ridiculous, the great Battōsai reduced to playing house and cooking for brats.”

“Trust me, you don’t want the Missy to cook.”


	7. Seven

Saito felt ridiculous. He wasn’t used to attending social events outside of police functions. He looked down at himself and wondered if he oughtn’t have changed out of his police uniform. At least he no longer wore the hat.

“Hey, old man! You ever wear anything besides that uniform?” Sano put voice to Saito’s concerns. Saito looked up and saw Sano wandering over to greet him at the entrance to the dojo. 

“Oh! Speak for yourself, ya big lug. I happen to like a man in uniform,” Megumi trilled, popping up from seemingly nowhere, “And what would you know about a varied wardrobe?”

“Hey! It’s my signature look!” Sano defended.

“Hi, Megumi Tekani,” She flirted, ignore Sano, “We met very briefly before.”

“I remember.” Saito commented, uninterested in her flirtation. Despite this, Megumi reached out and gripped his arm, forcefully, to lead him in towards the dojo. Saito frowned but let her.

“Demon fox lady,” Sano growled under breath as he followed closely behind.

“Now, Miss Megumi. Don’t scare him off just yet,” Kenshin greeted from the doorway, eyes smiling. Saito thought he looked ridiculous, grinning like that.

“And just what do you mean by that, Sir Ken!?” Megumi turned on Kenshin who immediately began waving his hands in front of him in surrender. Sano laughed and Saito smacked him on the back of the head.

“Come on, you guys,” Sano chuckled, rubbing his head, “Best not to keep the Missy waiting inside.”

They headed inside and Saito took in the group sitting there around the food. He recognized Kaoru Kamiya and the boy, Yahiko. There was also the elderly doctor and two children. Saito raised an eyebrow at this. He hadn’t thought there would be children at this gathering. At the sight of Saito, Sano, Kenshin, and Megumi, the two little girls hopped up and ran over. Sano picked up the smallest one and Kenshin scooped up the other.

“Ayame, Suzume,” Kenshin spoke to them, “This is Mr. Saito. Say hello.” The girls both waved at him with their small little hands.

“Hi!” The youngest, Suzume, squealed.

“Hello, Mr. Saito!” The other, Ayame, greeted politely.

“Ah, um, hello.” He responded, unused to children.

“Gee, lighten up, will ya?” Sano groused, putting Suzume down next to Kaoru before sitting himself down. Saito sat next to Sano and Kenshin sat on his left, “Now that we are all here! Let’s eat!”

“Yes! Dig in everyone!” Kaoru cheered and they all did. Saito winced at the voracity with which Yahiko ate. He vowed to keep one eye out for flying food. “Doctor Gensai, would you like to do the honor of pouring the sake?”

“Oh!” The doctor twittered, “Of course!” He poured out a cup for each of them, except for the girls. Even Yahiko got one, but was informed it was all he was getting that night.

“You better savor that Yahiko,” Kaoru warned, “We don’t want a repeat of last time.” Saito thought there might be a story there.

 

\-- Saito --

 

Kaoru’s warning didn’t stop Yahiko from passing out not an hour later into his food. Doctor Gensai was the next to follow, but at least it wasn’t into his food. He snored. Kaoru herself was soon giggling and turning pink around the ears.

“Kenshin! Kenshin! Remember that time the Missy made us perform in a circus!?” Sano exclaimed suddenly, breaking up Kaoru’s giggling. His cheeks were rosier than usual.

“Ah, I believe I’ve repressed that particular memory, Sano.” Kenshin responded sounding amused but cautious.

“Is there a story behind this?” Saito asked, sipping his sake.

“There was this little canon girl and Yahiko had a crush so he dragged us all into it,” Sano explained disjointedly, “And Missy got way too into it and Kenshin ended up doing the Hiten Mitsurugi umbrella drop!” He swung his arm in an imitation of the attack and almost knocked over a half-eaten bowl of rice.

“I’ve never heard of that move, Battōsai,” Saito teased, “No doubt a secret technique of your study.”

“Oh, yes!” He yelped, blushing, “A secret art known only to the true masters.” Sano laughed and shoved at Kenshin’s arm feeling playful.

“Mr. Saito?” A high-pitched voice asked with a tug on his sleeve. He turned to Ayame with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes?” He responded. The group went silent to watch the interaction.

“Why do they call you the wolf?”

“WOLF!” Suzume squealed, jumping up and down and tugging on his sleeve, “WOOF WOOF!” Saito furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance.

“Because I eat little children!” He growled out, annoyed. They squealed and ran to Kenshin.

“Uncle Kenni!!!” They warbled, burrowing their faces in Kenshin’s chest. Sano laughed and Kaoru reached over to smack him.

“Now, Saito that wasn’t very nice,” Kenshin scolded gently, “He was just joking, that he was.” He assured the kids.

“I think it’s time for Ayame and Suzume to go to bed now,” Megumi responded, with her own yawn, “In fact I think it is time for all us women to turn in. Come along Kaoru.”

“But I don’t wannaaaa,” Kaoru wined, “Kenshiiiin.” She grabbed a hold of Kenshin’s sleeve, but Megumi dragged her away, picking up Suzume as she did so. Ayame followed them out of the room, rubbing her eye with her tiny fist.

After the girls left, silence fell for a bit. Then Kenshin started humming to himself with his eyes closed, swaying a bit. Saito felt Sano rest his chin on his shoulder. Saito could feel his warm alcohol tinged breath on his neck.

“Saito?” He asked, “What were you like, back during the war? When you were the Wolf of Mibu?” Kenshin cracked open an eye.

“The same as I am now,” Saito answered, then after a pause and a grim smile, “A little bit less arthritis.” Kenshin huffed out a small chuckle.

“Still seem pretty limber to me,” Sano whispered. He then turned to Kenshin, “What do you think, Kenshin? You knew him back then. Was he the same?”

“His sense of humor has infinitely improved,” Kenshin offered and Saito threw a chopstick at him. Kenshin wasn’t fazed, “You used to wear a high pony.”

“As did you.” Saito reminded him.

“Yes, but your hair was longer. What was your outfit?” Kenshin struggled to remember, “Silver and purple?”

“Blue, actually.”

“Light blue! And a hachimaki to keep your bangs out of your eyes!” Kenshin set himself giggling. Saito bristled, feeling mocked.

“It was a part of the uniform,” He defended.

“Do you still have it?” Sano asked, with a sly grin, “I bet you have the whole outfit tucked away somewhere.” Saito refused to rise to the bait.

“We all have remnants of the war tucked away somewhere. Not everyone chooses to display it on their back like you.” He watched as Kenshin reached a hand up to brush against his scar and Saito thought about the reason he wore his gloves. “Some of us choose to hide our past away and run from our shame, rather than face it head on,” He turned to look at Sano, “Some of us are not as brave, nor as stupid as you.”

"Careful Saito, that was almost a compliment."


	8. Eight

“SANO!” Kenshin shouted across the yard as he dashed over, unsheathing his sword as he ran. Sano struggled under the attacks of two men. Kaoru and Yahiko were doing their best to help, but it was clear that they would need Kenshin in order to defeat men of such skill.

The first was a small, fast man with long gray hair and who welded two sets of curved spikes, one per hand, a blade on each knuckle. The second was tall and beefy. He had a large sword (though not as large as Sano’s Zanbato) and was swinging it wildly. Kenshin reached them just as Yahiko’s sword flew from his hands and Kaoru’s splintered.

“What took you so long, Kenshin?” Sano asked with a smirk.

“My apologies,” Kenshin leaped into action, blocking an attack from the sword, “Who are you and why are you attacking us?”

“We are the followers of the Juppongatana! Loyal and devoted warriors to their cause!” The smaller one explained, “I am Ryujiro and this is my partner, Nagatomi.”

“You are responsible for the death of Lord Shisho!” The larger one, Nagatomi, professed with a single-minded determination, “And for that you will pay with your lives!” Nagatomi pointed at both Kenshin and Sano in turn.

“Then attack if you are so inclined,” Kenshin responded, “But do so at your own risk.”

And attack they did. Nagatomi went for Sano. Flailing his sword in wide arks. Sano knew how large swords handled. He remembered how Kenshin had avoided his swings the first time they had fought. Nagatomi had made a mistake. Ryujiro attacked Kenshin. His weapon required close contact. Kenshin was fast and his long sword, even with the blade reversed, meant that he never had to get that close. Ryujiro had also made a mistake.

Despite this, the fight took longer than either had expected. Or, perhaps, Sano thought, it was because of this that they were able to win without major injury. The two fighters were incredibly skilled. Not Juppongatana good, but good. And Kenshin and Sano were distracted worrying about Kaoru and Yahiko and whether the kids were here or with Doctor Gensai. If the fighting pairs had been switched it might have been an even closer fight.

“Is it only those two? Are there more of them? Are they going to send more men?” Kaoru worried, running over to Kenshin to check him for wounds after the battle ended, “We should sent a letter to Aoshi and Misao and warn them they might be attacked too!”

“Yes, if there are more of them it is likely that they would target their group as well,” Kenshin agreed, helping Yahiko tie up the now unconscious men so they wouldn’t escape before the police could be called.

“Kenshin,” Sano spoke sharply, his whole body tensing, “Saito.”

“Yes,” Kenshin agreed, “I think we best pay him a visit.”

Sano and Kenshin took off at a full run.

As they headed towards the center of the city it became clear that they were running up stream. People were fleeing to their homes and the outskirts of the city. Sano increased his speed, seeing a clearing up a head, near the police station. Saito was already in the middle of a fight, with a very, very large man. The towering giant of a man had arm guards on both arms. But rather than acting as defense, these guards were a part of his offense, they were covered in sharp spikes. He was also wielding a rather impressive long sword. Saito was attacking with his Gatotsu but having a hard time connecting a solid hit. His sword was shorter and anytime he did get close, his sword tip met the metal of an arm guard or the steel of a blade. Saito was panting heavily.

“Saito!” Sano shouted as Saito flew at the man for another attack. Saito jerked, glancing over his shoulder at Sano. The large man back handed him and he went sailing into the wall of a nearby building.

“Idiot!” Saito complained as he stood up, “Stay back!”

“Sano,” Kenshin grabbed Sano’s arms as he went to join the fight, “this is not your battle. Putting yourself at risk will only distract him from the fight. You must stay back.”

The fighter and Saito were fairly evenly matched. The fight was intense, to put it mildly. Sano was reminded of the way that Kenshin had fought Shishio. He wondered if this is what fighting had been like during the war, but a glance at Kenshin told him nothing. Even the police were hiding in the station, their blue hats only peeking out over the window frames and around doorways. Eventually the two fighters separated. Saito took up his Gatotsu stance once more.

“At I thought, it is going to come down to a single attack,” Kenshin murmured, “This will decide the battle.”

“Kick his ass, Saito!” Sano yelled and thought he saw a small smirk appear on Saito’s lips right before the attack.

Sano thought that if he had blinked he would have missed it. One second the two men were apart, then the next they were meeting in the middle, and then they were separated again. For a breath nobody moved. Then, the large man let out a horrid sound and pitched forward, slamming to the ground dead. Sano grinned, ready to start cheering for Saito’s win, when a red line appeared on Saito’s left arm, the one holding his sword, just above the elbow. The line darkened, blood running down his forearm and over his sword. And then, it separated. Saito’s arm and sword fell to the ground with an audible thump. Someone screamed. Saito’s right hand flew to grip his bicep above the jagged stump and he collapsed to his knees.

“Saito!” Sano exclaimed, rushing over with Kenshin hot on his heels. Sano wrapped his arms around Saito, holding him up as he passed out from the pain.

“Damn it,” He mumbled, holding Saito up against his chest with one arm he used the other to reach up and untie his red hachimaki. “Help me hold him up.” Kenshin shifted closer and helped to prop up Saito while Sano used his hachimaki as a tourniquet, tying it tight around the bleeding end of Saito’s upper arm. 

“We need to get him to Doctor Gensai,” Kenshin said, his voice was calm, but Sano could see the tension in his shoulders, “You carry him. I will take his sword and his … arm.” If the situation had been different Sano might have laughed at Kenshin’s visible discomfort at the idea.

Instead, Sano nodded and hiked Saito up more fully into his arms and took off at a run. He didn’t even bother to see if Kenshin was following.

 

\-- Sano --

 

Sano didn’t stop until he reached the doctor’s door. He threw it open without knocking first. Doctor Gensai looked up from a patient startled.

“Oh my!” He exclaimed, taking in Saito’s bleeding stump, “Megumi! Take him inside to the surgery room, quickly!”

Sano hurried over to where Megumi was waiting with towels and hot water while Doctor Gensai quickly finished with his other patient. Sano set Saito down on the mat and Megumi ripped at what was left of the fabric from Saito’s uniform sleeve to wash off the area around the wound.

“How long ago did this happen?” She asked, grabbing a needle and thread.

“I ran straight here after,” Sano answered as Kenshin entered with Doctor Gensai. Doctor Gensai was holding the arm. Kenshin set Saito’s sword down and Doctor Gensai rested the arm on the table.

“Let me see, Megumi,” The Doctor spoke, coming forward and crouching. Megumi shooed Sano away to give him some space to work, “That was quick thinking, using this to tie off the arm to slow the bleeding. We won’t be able to reattach his arm, of course, but this this most likely saved the upper half of his arm, if not his life.”

“Yes, very good,” Megumi fluttered, wringing her hands, “Now go wait in the hall while we work.”

 

\-- Saito --

 

Saito woke confused. His head hurt and the room swam before his eyes. When the fight slowly came back to him, he looked down at his left arm to access the damage. He grimaced at the bandage wrapped stump. He wondered what they’d done with the rest of his arm. The blood loss certainly explained why he was feeling so dizzy. He tried to sit up anyway.

“Careful, slowly,” Megumi’s voice was kind, “You don’t want to disrupt the stiches.”

Saito turned to look at her. She was sitting on his left. She handed him a small cup of tea once he was properly sitting. He carefully reached across with his good arm to take it and sip it.

“How long have I been out?” He asked once he had finished. She took his cup and set it down.

“Nearly two days. He hasn’t left your side the whole time.” Saito blinked, eyes narrowing to slits in confusion. Megumi nodded over his shoulder.

Saito turned and discovered Sano, leaning sitting against the wall, asleep, mouth open as if he was snoring but making no noise. Saito couldn’t help but smile.


	9. Epilogue

Saito had his remaining hand woven through Sano’s hair. Saito loved the way Sano would crane his neck when he tugged on those strands, baring skin for Saito to nip at with his teeth.

“Mmm,” Sano hummed under Saito’s ministrations, “It must be nice to be home finally.”

“I would have been fine to return sooner, the good Doctor and that she-witch underestimate my will to return to normality,” Saito grumbled, “And peace and quiet.”

“Peace and quiet, huh?” Sano teased, “You weren’t so quiet a few minutes ago.” 

“Don’t think you can get away with shit just because I’m missing an arm.” He punctuated this statement with a sharp pull and Sano yelped.

“I think you proved that pretty well, when you still managed to pin me down,” Sano admitted with a laugh, freeing himself from Saito’s grip to turn and face him. Saito let his hand rest on Sano’s shoulder and Sano’s palms pressed against Saito’s waist, fingers tracing old and new scars, “How are you going to use your Gatosu?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“You can’t use your Futae no Kiwami with your right hand so you plan to learn to use your left. I’ll just have to learn to use my right hand for my Gatotsu.”

Sano leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Saito’s chest and Saito burrowed his face in Sano’s unruly hair. Saito pondered over the way it stuck up in every angle and how the fringe stuck down to Sano’s forehead now that he didn’t have his hachimaki to tame it. The red fabric had been unsaveable, so stained with Saito’s blood.

“I’m sorry that you lost your hachimaki,” He commented, voicing the thought.

“That’s alright,” Sano shrugged, “Just a bit of fabric.”

“It was special to you.”

“A memory from my time with the Sekihōtai,” Sano admitted, “I won’t ever forget my past, but I’ve decided that the present is more important. You’re more important.” He said this softly.

“Let me up,” Saito said, shifting Sano from his lap and standing.

“What is it?” Saito didn’t answer. He instead went over to the small trunk that sat in the corner of the room and opened it. Inside, folded neatly, was his old uniform from the war.

“I understand,” Saito said as he reached in and took out his old silver and black hachimaki, “Perhaps I could offer a replacement.” Sano walked over and Saito handed him the headband.

“Are you sure?” He asked and at Saito’s nod, brushed back his bangs and tied the hachimaki over his forehead. It was a little thicker than Sano’s red one had been, more traditional, but Sano didn’t seem to care.

“A bit of the past I’m ready to let go of.”

 

\-- Sano --

 

“Did you get a new hachimaki, Sano?” Kaoru asked the next week while they walked through town.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Sano agreed touching the headband nervously, “Why? Does it look stupid or something?”  

“No,” Kaoru assured, waving her hands in front of her, “It looks fine. It actually matches your happi. Right Kenshin?” She asked the samurai. Kenshin nodded, a twinkle in his eye.

“Sano could do a lot worse, that he could,” He agreed, “He should cherish and protect it, that he should.”

Sano chuckled. Of course, Kenshin knew exactly from whom Sano had gotten the headband. He was giving a sort of approval on Sano’s relationship with Saito. Sano didn’t need it, but it was nice to have all the same. Yahiko, however was confused.

“What the- it’s just a headband, Kenshin! You’re so weird!”

 

\-- End --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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